Earth 420: Spiderman
by Earth-420
Summary: Young Peter Parker is like any other teenage kid. Except for one thing, he's also Spiderman. Witness Parker's rise to the friendly neighborhood Spiderman in this story a bit different than the original tale.
1. Chapter 1

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Peter sat, listening to the seconds tick by on the clock overhead. He rubbed his hands together, the layers of microscopic hooks snagging against each other, making a firm lock. Sensing movement to his right, he turned to see his Uncle Ben enter the principal's office. He was a rather plump man, and he wore a grim face.

"Ben Parker, was it?" The principal spoke from behind his desk. Uncle Ben nodded and the men shook hands, Uncle Ben taking a seat next to his nephew.

"Peter here got in a fight with another child at school today." The principal announced. Uncle Ben nodded.

"So, how much detention does he have?"

"Mr. Parker… Peter gave this child a concussion. And broke his arm, and two ribs." Uncle Ben sighed at this, raising a hand to his forehead, rubbing the wrinkles there. "If Peter were two years older, he would be arrested for his actions this afternoon. As it is, he has been expelled from Midtown High." The principal continued.

"Very well." Uncle Ben spoke, rising out of his seat. "Thank you." He shook hands with the principal a second time, and motioned for Peter to follow him out. As the doors of his high school swung to a close behind him, Peter's mouth opened.

"Uncle Ben, I- I'm so sorry." He muttered, staring at the ground. Uncle Ben didn't say anything, just wordlessly escorted Peter through the parking lot. They entered his car, an old station wagon, the doors slammed shut, the ignition turned, and they pulled onto the road.

"Why did you do it?" Uncle Ben asked casually, as if he was inquiring about the weather. Peter stared out of the window as the world outside flew past in perfect clarity. He didn't miss a single detail, every ounce of information his eyes had to give were absorbed and processed by his brain. Peter knew exactly what was going on outside, but didn't have a clue what was happening inside of him.

"He started it." Peter managed. "He kept on bullying me."

"And now that you've got your revenge? Do you feel any better?" Uncle Ben asked as he looked over his shoulder to keep from colliding with the New York traffic. There was silence. "A concussion, broken arm, broken ribs… I didn't know you were so strong."

"Uncle Ben… I've got something to- to tell you." Peter spoke, barely audible to the aging man.

"And what is that?" Uncle Ben asked, slowing to a stop in front of the Parker's apartment.

"I..." Peter looked up at his uncle, smiling. "I'm pretty strong." Uncle Ben smiled, unbuckling his seat belt as he parked the car.

"Just remember Peter. With great power comes great responsibility."

CHAPTER 1

"The killer has been identified as a man named William Baker. We haven't caught him yet, he's currently on the run. We'll tell you more as soon as we can." The police officer said grimly. His face was blank and authorial, he was no doubt used to delivering the bad news like this.

"Thank you, Officer Stacy." Aunt Jane whispered, gazing at the photographs of her and Ben over the fireplace.

"Excuse me, sir." Peter spoke up, stopping Officer Stacy as he turned for the door. "Can I have that picture?" The teen gestured to the picture of Uncle Ben's killer. The officer shrugged and handed him the photo. "Thanks." Peter said, making his way up the stairs. The front door closed behind Peter as he approached the staircase, and he stopped at the first step. He turned to give a last look at his Aunt May. She was still on the couch, lost in her grieving. Peter continued up the stairs.

He opened the door to Aunt May and Uncle Ben's room, allowing a sliver of light to spill into the dark room before opening the door entirely. The teen paced across the floor, getting on his knees to reach under the bed. When his hand emerged from the shadow, it was gripping a pistol. Peter examined the gun, confirming that it was loaded and making sure it was on safety, to prevent any premature firings. He stuffed it in the pocket of his blue jeans and rushed into his room, locking the door behind him.

Peter opened a drawer full of his winter clothing to find something to conceal himself. Everything was red. It was the teen's favorite color after all, but not very subtle. Not exactly the best stuff to wear when you're about to commit… murder. Peter shivered, staggering. He slammed a hand onto the dresser to stabilize it, but his enhanced strength just smashed through the wood, exploding in a shower of splinters. Peter shook his head and found the darkest red things he could get, complete with a red ski mask.

He opened his window, sticking his head out into the cool night. It had rained earlier in the afternoon, and the air was damp and eerily still. Peter swung his legs out of the window, stepping onto the fire escape. He perched on the railing, looking out at the city night. He rubbed his hands together, his hooks covered by warm, red gloves. Then, taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to topple over the railing.

The air whipped past Peter as he fell, and he looked up, pinpointing his first mark to hit. He raised a hand, the sleeve of his red and blue hoodie slipping out of the way as a web spring from his wrist. It stuck to the edge of a nearby building, and Peter gripped onto the web with both hands, pulling back on it hard as he hit the middle of his swing. The teen let go of the web, slinging into the air.

Peter shot through the New York sky, letting his senses take over. It was the only time he truly felt free, nothing could hold him back now. He was heavier than usual though, the gun sitting in his pocket felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Fighting through the burden, Peter made his way north.

Perched on the roof of a house on the edge of a trailer park, Peter squinted into the clearing at a man, speaking to someone inside a nearby trailer. Peter pulled the photograph out of his pocket, unfolding it. He could barely see the man's features in the moonlight, but he deduced that it had to be William Baker. This was Uncle Ben's killer.

Peter pulled the gun out of his pocket, turning the safety off. He aimed it across the clearing at William, resting a finger on the trigger. Peter's hands were shaking though, he couldn't get a clear shot. His breath got heavy, and his aim worsened even more.

"_And now that you've got your revenge? Do you feel any better?" _Uncle Ben's words echoed in Peter's mind.

Peter set down the gun. He didn't need revenge. But he couldn't just let this killer go, he had to stop him. So Peter raised his wrist, hit the trailer with a web, and pulled. The teen flung across the clearing with the force of his pull, and delivered a punch to the criminal with equal force as momentum carried him past, Will's nose shattering under the impact.

Peter skidded across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt in his wake. As he slowed to a stop, he turned to face Baker, who was holding his face in one hand, blood flowing profusely between his fingers.

Will pulled out a gun in his free hand, pointing it at Peter.

"Don't move kid, or I'll shoot you!" Will shouted. His eyes were watering, and blood flowed down his neck.

"What, you're going to kill me too?" Peter hissed. "Come on, try me." Will grit his teeth and fired on the boy. Parker's spider sense, the last of his several abilities, immediately kicked into effect, and he leaned out of the bullet's path faster than the blink of an eye. "Not so easy when you're not up against harmless elders, is it?" Peter mocked, stepping closer to Will. The criminal fired again, and Peter dodged the bullet with just as much ease as before.

"What the hell are you?" William asked quietly, his voice shot with awe. Peter picked him up by the neck, gripping him so firmly that he dropped his gun.

"Spiderman." Peter said, throwing a punch to Baker's temple that knocked him out cold. Peter dropped the criminal and tied his hands together with web. He looked up at the man in the trailer, whose eyes were wide. The man slammed the trailer door shut and locked it. Peter laughed and pulled his phone out, dialing for the police.

William sat, sighing. He thought about that kid he had fought, who called himself Spiderman. Who the hell- No, _what_ the hell was that? He was snapped out of his thoughts when a jail guard opened his cell door. A finely dressed, blonde man walked in, offering Baker his hand.

"William Baker, is it?" Baker nodded, shaking the man's hand. "I'm Justin Hammer. You've been chosen for a special program, Mr. Baker."


	2. Chapter 2

"Good morning, Brian. I'm live in New York, where it has just been revealed that Steve Rogers, the Captain America, is in fact still alive. According to members of the Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate, Captain America was frozen in ice in a form of suspended animation. When he was retrieved from the icecap, his traditional uniform, and yes, the iconic shield, was still intact."

Peter stared at the television as video of Steve Rogers wading through a crowd, shielding his eyes from the bright city lights, played. An image of the Captain's outfit was thrown up on the screen, and Peter stroked his chin. He was just as super as Captain America, and had even called himself Spider-Man. Shouldn't he have a costume to match?

"Aunt May, can I borrow your sewing stuff?" Peter asked, descending the stairs loudly, in typical teenage fashion.

"Sure honey, but why on Earth would you need it?" Aunt May asked from the kitchen. She was making eggs and bacon for breakfast.

"I want to make some clothes." Peter stated, taking a seat at the table. Aunt May slid him a plate full of food, along with utensils and a napkin the moment he sat down.

"Well now. If you want to make a full piece of clothing, why not have your aunt help out?" Aunt May asked. Instead of sitting down with the food she had made for herself, she began cleaning the house again, despite it being very clean. Peter also noted that she had made too much food, enough to feed an extra person.

"Thanks for the offer, but I want to do this by myself." Peter said between bites as he scarfed down his breakfast. "It's kind of personal." Aunt May nodded.

"What do you want for dinner?" Aunt May queried, changing the topic as she opened the fridge door, examining the contents.

"I'm still eating breakfast." Peter pointed out.

"I know Peter, but I'd like to start on it now."

"Aunt May, why don't you just eat breakfast?"

"Oh dear, I'm not hungry. Here, I'll get you those sewing supplies." She smiled, walking off to her room. Peter looked down at his eggs, suddenly finding that he didn't have the stomach to eat them. Something was up with Aunt May, and it put his nerves on edge. A tingling crept through the teen's neck. He could sense something was amiss, but not exactly what. Aunt May arrived with a basket of sewing supplies and set it on the table.

"Thanks." Peter said as he got up, taking the basket to his room.

"Just tell me if you need anything." Aunt May called as Peter ascended the staircase.

"Okay." Peter snapped, closing his door behind him. The moment his door clicked shut though, Peter's aggravated face melted into one of distress. His aunt was always very helpful and providing for him, but not like this. A crack snapped the teen to his senses, and he looked down to see the sewing basket fall to the floor. He unclenched his hand, revealing wooden handle shards. Peter stared down at the splinters for a moment, and then shook his head. There was work to be done. He had to make an awesome suit.

As Peter picked up the supplies, he thought about what he had hunted down William Baker in. He had plenty of red and blue fabric, though the red he had was a bit more vibrant than what he had worn last night. As he thought about what the Spiderman would wear, his eyes lit up with an idea, and his fingers started flying. The day flew by, and Aunt May's reserves of red and blue fabric were stripped dry, but at the end of it all Peter stood before an awesome suit. Worthy of being worn by the Spiderman.

Peter stepped back from the suit, laid out on his bed, sighing with relief. His suit was awesome. He flicked on the news and laid back in his computer chair, popping open a coke. But what he saw was far from relieving. He leaned in closer as the words came out; just to make sure things weren't actually how they seemed. But they were. There was a large lizard man wreaking havoc in the Oscorp building. A large lizard man he recognized.

The lizard roared, flipping a table. Papers flew everywhere and a rush of people tripped over each other as they ran to the stairs. Gunshots rang through the building as a guard opened fire on the lizard. The bullets bounced off his scaly skin, seemingly harmlessly. The building was absolute chaos. The lizard lashed out at his assailant, tearing through his cloth shirt easily. His claws couldn't make their way through his body armor, but they did make incisions, into which the lizard gripped as he pulled the guard off the ground. Gwen could not tell whether the guard's face was stricken with terror or disbelief, but it did not stay that way for long. The lizard's teeth closed around the man's head, cutting it off with little resistance.

Seeing the head drop to the floor, Gwen couldn't muster a scream. She felt frozen to the spot, like none of this was actually happening. This was a dream, and if she let it run its course the lizard man would be gone soon. But that wasn't the case. The flying papers settled, and the lizard stared straight at Gwen, dropping the guard. He charged at the intern, but she still stuck to the spot. Its arms raised and its mouth opened, but it stopped suddenly just out of reach. The lizard turned to see two webs stuck to its back. Standing in a shattered window was a man in an awesome blue and red outfit.

The lizard grabbed the webs, yanking them back with vicious force. It caught Spiderman with the other claw, but as its jaws opened they were tied shut with a web. It brought its other claw up and closed it around Peter, ensnaring him in an unbreakable death grip. Spiderman swung his feet up with all of his enhanced strength, pulling the Lizard forward. The reptile fell forward onto the ground, its grip failing, and Spiderman flipped onto his feet. The lizard scrambled up quickly, and charged at Peter.

Spiderman flipped backwards onto his hands, and then onto his feet, and then onto his hands, all the way across the room. The lizard charged after him. And when Peter flipped out of the window, the lizard was going far too fast to keep himself from following. Peter planted himself firmly against the window of the floor below him, and the lizard flew out the shattered window, falling ten floors. The beast landed with a solid thud, and police surrounded it.

Peter quickly crawled back into the Oscorp building, to see the girl that the lizard nearly killed was in the same spot. Her hands went through her blonde hair, and her breath was short.

"Hey, it's okay." Peter said, pacing towards Gwen. "Are you hurt?" Gwen shook her head, her eyes firmly closed. When she felt Spiderman walk up to her, she threw her arms around him.

"Thank you." She sputtered, her voice choked with tears.

"Hey, it's what I do." Peter said, after some hesitation. He wanted nothing more than to brag or ask for some kind of favor (a kiss, perhaps?) but he held it back. If he was serious about being a superhero, like Captain America, then he had to be heroic. The door to the staircase slammed open, and an aged police officer stormed into the room with his gun out, a flashlight illuminating the room.

"Oh Gwen, thank God." The office spoke with a voice of ultimate relief, running up to the girl. "Who the hell are you?" The officer spoke to Peter as he backed up, his voice instantly becoming harsher.

"I'm your friendly neighborhood Spiderman." Peter said, backing out of the window. He smiled as the air rushed around him, turning around to face it head on. He shot a web into the streets of New York, slinging back home.

William Baker had been in the chair forever by the time the "doctor" arrived. He was wearing a hazmat suit, with a sleeve full of syringes. The directors of the program sat behind a reinforced Plexiglas wall. The last guy they tried this stuff on killed all of the scientists present in a fit of uncontrollable rage. But Hammer decided not to tell his new "volunteer" about that. The doctor put the syringe in Baker's arm, unloading the serum into a vein with a fierce burning sensation. And then the treatment was over.

"Well." Hammer spoke, standing up and clapping his hands together, "Looks like that was a flop. Let's try again, boys." Baker was still shouting as the pain from the failed procedure coursed through him when he exploded into sand.


End file.
